Chapter 10

The throne room of Sacrotia

Emeria

Emeria sat upon her throne, lost in thought. She twirled her axe, tossing it gently into the air. Her mind wandered from one heinous act to another gleefully as she let her focus go. Next to the throne, her armor sat in a pile, carelessly tossed aside. “It’s such a nice blade,” she mused, “But I’ll have so many more fantastic toys soon.” She caught the twirling axe and gently tossed it higher into the air. “Those hermits in the mountains are going to make me such nice things, I can’t imagine how much fun I’ll have.” She caught the axe again and tossed it higher still into the air. As the axe gleamed and twirled she extended her pale, bare forearm under it. The axe came spinning down and sank itself hungrily into her flesh. The edge dug deep and blood began to seep from the new wound.

Emeria shuddered briefly and then took a long calm breath. The blood around the wound began its familiar glow as she pulled the axe from her flesh. A small crimson tendril began to slither out, grasping for life. Emeria looked at the little tendril as a smile cracked her thin lips. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a real feast,” she said. Emeria thought for a moment, “In fact, I think that last snack was the first one I’ve given you in a while.” As if in reply the tendril grew thin and moved closer to Emeria’s face. “I know, I know,” she replied, “I promise I won’t ever go that long again. In fact, I can promise you that we will be eating to our gluttonous heart’s desire soon.” The tendril wiggled with glee in reply. “Honestly every time I truly feed you it reminds me just how awful the normal way of eating is. The only reason the peasants can enjoy that is because they’ve never devoured anything like we have. Simple meat pales in comparison to a true grim feast, doesn’t it?” the tendril continued to move, though Emeria seemed unsatisfied by the response. “Well, either way, we will soon have a feast the likes of which I’ve never experienced and you, well maybe you have, but I don’t exactly know how far this whole blood connection with my relatives goes after all. Maybe one of my truly ambitious relatives had a feast to match this, though I do doubt that.”

At the far edge of the hall, Emeria heard the door begin to jostle open, so she ceased talking. Rosher quietly stepped into the room and cleared his throat, rather obtusely making his presence known. “I’m sorry to interrupt your private time my queen, but there are several matters that I do believe we need to attend to.”

“So what do you need me for?” Emeria asked sarcastically. “Don’t I keep you around so I don’t have to deal with these political headaches?”

“Well actually my queen these aren’t quite my normal political matters, these pertain to the ongoing matters involving Chirock,” Rosher said trying to sound confident.

Emeria sat up at the mention of Chirock. Now Rosher could see that Emeria was only wearing the light gown that went under her armor. He saw the spatters of blood as he averted his eyes. “I’m sorry my queen, I did not know that you were not ready to meet,” he said as he moved a hand over his eyes while he blushed.

“Please Rosher, you’re the one who gets embarrassed, not me. You know the outfits, the armor, that’s all a formality to me,” Emeria replied. She glanced over at Rosher, seeing that he wouldn’t look at her. “Fine, fine, I’ll put the darned dress armor back on. She hopped off the throne and began to suit herself again, clasping together the pieces of armor as she went. As she finished up she spoke, “You can look at me now Rosher.”

Slowly Rosher lowered his hand and looked over at her. Though Rosher had been Emeria’s advisor for her entire rule he still wasn’t able to get past the fact that she appeared to be a child. He thought only of how his own children had been when they had looked that way and it always startled him to see Emeria in the same way.

“Out with it Rosher,” Emeria barked. “Get out of your head and tell me what matters you want to discuss. I’m not just going to sit here all day waiting for you.”

“Yes of course my queen, I know your time is so very precious,” Rosher stammered out.” He stepped forward to the throne and snapped his fingers. Stone slid up from the floor and formed a table with a large map of the continent on it. Each kingdom was labeled with bright blue letters aside from Sacrotia which was labeled in the usual deep crimson. “Well you see my queen, you have informed me that we will be overtaking Chirock, but that is by no means a simple maneuver, that’s an incredibly well-guarded natural fortress. I’m not sure how you expect to do that in a manner that won’t turn all the other kingdoms against us in short order.”

Emeria chuckled, “Well Rosher there are two reasons for that. First off, the other kingdoms will eventually turn against us, but it will be far too late. I plan to overtake Chirock in the span of one simple day.” Rosher’s brow furrowed, but before he could question Emeria continued. “The second reason I haven’t given any detail is because there is most definitely a rat amongst us, a traitor.”

Emeria heard Rosher take a long hard swallow. “But my queen, why would you think that, surely no one would be stupid enough to betray you.” Despite saying this, Rosher had suspected as much. The attacker who had made it to the throne room had far too much information about the layout of the castle and the different defenses within. Though Rosher internally didn’t always agree with Emeria, his fierce devotion to his kingdom would never have allowed him to betray her, though he wasn’t so sure she would understand that.

After several moments of tense silence Emeria cracked a smile and laughed, “Don’t worry Rosher, I know it isn’t you.” Rosher sighed deeply. “You don’t have the backbone to try something like that, no matter how little you may like me.”

Rosher took a shallow calm breath, choosing his words rather than taking the bait, “My queen I have no idea what you are talking about. I like all true Sacrotians believe staunchly in your rule.”

Emeria chuckled again, “Sure Rosher, of course you do. She stepped over to the table as she finished with the last clasping of the armor. She glanced over the map, though she knew it well. Chirock laid just ever so slightly to the southwest of the Sacrotian border. A range of mountains all protruding forth from the largest peak in the center, the mountain city of Chirock. “I plan on simply giving the people of Chirock a gift. They will appreciate my hospitality so much that they will undoubtedly bend the knee and take me as their queen. Emeria put her hand on Rosher’s shoulder. This simple act would have been reassuring from most, but from Emeria it was more an act of intimidation. Rosher could feel the pressure from her cold lifeless feeling hand on him like the weight of a mountain.

Rosher collected himself for a moment and continued. Emeria was a queen who could be described as many things, cunning, ruthless, and temperamental, but never would Rosher have used the word hospitable to describe her. He thought too of his dealings with Chirock and its people. As a kingdom, they were very tight-knit. A kingdom of very skilled and very paranoid craftsmen. They had a way of staying to their own, the only citizens who regularly left the kingdom were the traders who brought their goods to the other kingdoms. It had been hundreds of years since even a political delegate had been allowed into the city, so scarce little was known about it. The king of Chirock was an ancient man named Graclose. The information about him was suspect at best. As far as anyone outside of Chirock could tell that was the only ruler Chirock had in its history. Some scholars surmised that it was a title given to the king, other rumors from the more magically obsessed seem to point to it being the name of one person who had ruled the entire time. Either way, verifiable facts about the kingdom were very few and far between.

“A gift my queen?” Rosher asked. “I do not doubt that you could give them so much, but given the nature of their people, I struggle to find what sort of gift you could give them that they would accept.”

“Oh trust me, they will accept my gift,” Emeria said with a hungry smile. She placed her hand on Rosher’s shoulder again, though this time the small red tendril wriggled forth from her wrist and dragged across Rosher’s neck. Rosher’s pulse spiked and his blood ran cold, he could feel the pull against his skin as the tendril begged to sink into his neck. “I will give them the divine gift that only I can give. After all, I am divine, I am the emissary of the blood god’s will. I am the very voice of divinity in our world.” The tendril twisted its way around Rosher’s neck, steadily applying pressure as it became harder for Rosher to breathe. He began to grow light-headed as he tried to maintain his composure. He knew if he struggled Emeria would only make things worse. Emeria took a step away and the tendril snapped back to her with a sharp tug. Rosher dropped to his knees gasping for air. “Do compose yourself better Rosher. I’m going to go take care of my little rat problem. When I come back we will discuss all the other details of that gift I have planned for Chirock.” Rosher braced himself on the table as he raised to his feet, giving no reply. “Don’t worry, I won’t be too long,” Emeria said happily as she opened the door to leave the room.

Emeria skipped through the halls of the castle, humming a funeral dirge as she went. Guards and blood priests darted out of her way and kneeled as she went. After a few minutes she arrived at her destination, Sherid’s private chambers. For all the status that came with his position, Sherid had chosen a simple life and small quarters to live in the castle so that he could better serve the divine. Emeria always thought this to be a moronic choice. Had she been in the same position she would have the largest mansion in the city. Then again, she didn’t believe in the same manner Sherid did.

Emeria flung open the door and gazed into the room. Sherid sat at his desk, the one ornate thing in the room. It was carved wood, covered in images from the Books of Blood, the holy text of the religion of blood. Passages written in old languages scrawled across the edges of the wood and glowed faintly in red. Several large bookcases lined the walls and one large old tapestry hung in the back. Emeria knew this piece all too well. It was supposed to show the birth of the divine, the beginning of her bloodline. A glowing red moon cast a crimson light down upon a man with freshly slit wrists. Blood cascaded down from him and ran to the edges of the tapestry. In the middle of the moon’s glow, just above the man was an image of the Bloodstone.

Emeria rolled her eyes as she looked at the tapestry, it was a great story, but she doubted its accuracy. She slammed the door behind her for dramatic effect. Finally, Sherid put down his book and addressed Emeria. “Divine host, to what do I owe this visit? You know you could have summoned me if you needed me,” Sherid said. Emeria didn’t answer, instead, she stepped closer, taking a peek at the book Sherid was reading. He tried to push it aside, but Emeria recognized it instantly. It was a very old book that Emeria knew quite well, though she was surprised to see Sherid reading it. The cover was a tanned piece of hide of questionable origins with red glowing ink etched into the words “Royal History” on the cover. Unlike the tapestry on the back wall, this was the truth, or at least the truth as far as Emeria knew it. This was the private volume kept by the royal family to chronicle their history. Every dark deed, every great triumph, and every tale of the royal family rested in this book supposedly. The book was only known to those closest to the king and queen. Emeria’s mother used to tell her stories from it when she was young. Normally one scribe was chosen to keep the events, but Emeria cared so little for the chore that she had passed it to no one, content to live her story rather than have it written.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Quite the interesting read Sherid,” Emeria said with a glint in her eyes. “I’m not surprised you know of it, of course, but the fact that you would have it out intrigues me.”

Sherid smiled calmly, “I am just trying to better understand the greatness of our leaders my queen.” He closed the book and put down the quill that had been in his hand. “Though to be honest I was also writing your story, I know you don’t care for such things, but as a great leader of our kingdom I feel it would be a disservice to future generations to not know of your greatness.”

Emeria laughed loudly for effect, “Not bad Sherid, try to play to my ego and make me ignore the obvious.”

“I don’t know what you mean my queen,” Sherid replied quickly as the tension sharpened.

“You were looking in that book for a way to kill me, that much is obvious,” Emeria replied coldly, locking eyes with Sherid.

“I would never dream of such my queen,” Sherid said trying to control his pulse. “You are divine, why would I seek a way to kill the divine? I am a devout follower of the blood god’s will.”

“Come now Sherid, you know I can’t stand it when people lie to me and I certainly don’t tolerate being condescended to,” Emeria said as her eyes narrowed. “Despite my looks, I am not a child and I will not be treated as such. At least have the respect for your divine god to be honest to her.”

Sherid calmly stepped in front of his desk and got to his knees. “I promise you, my queen, I am being honest. I only sought to help you by learning from your past.” His hood draped over his face as he knelt and he took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get out of this situation.

“Really, then how exactly would my family’s story help me Sherid? I know my story. Mommy and Daddy told it to me when I was little before they gave up on me and left me hungry. They made the mistake of teaching me true hunger. When they finally left me alone for too long I ate them. That’s all there is to it. Emeria twitched her hands and cracked her knuckles. Thinking of the hunger always makes me want to eat, and I’m not so sure I can control that right now.”

Sherid felt his heart skip a beat as he tried to reply quickly. “Well, I can call down to the chef and have him prepare something for you my queen, tell me whatever you would like.” Sherid put his hands together within the large sleeves of his robe and gently slid the concealed dagger from its sheathe. At this point, he was merely hoping to buy time and see Emeria’s guard drop long enough that he could strike. The dagger was already enchanted with a paralytic, so one cut would be all he would need to free his kingdom from the abomination. He stood up, trying to keep his head bowed.

“Sherid, Sherid, Sherid,” Emeria replied finally. “We both know what sort of meal I am talking about. It’s certainly not the kind the chef prepares. After all, you know how rare I like my meat. Besides, I’ve been hungering for one thing in particular tonight. I’ve heard a rat scurrying about the castle and I’m just dying to sink my teeth into it. By any chance do you know where I could find one?”

“I don’t know what you mean my queen…”

Emeria cut him off, “Lies!” The cut on her forearm began to glow to life and her eyes turned a flooded crimson as she pointed at Sherid. “You are the rat Sherid. You’ve been scurrying around the castle trying to kill me, trying to kill your divine god!”

At this, Sherid lunged at Emeria. The small tendril shot from Emeria’s arm and narrowly missed him as he plunged the dagger deep into an exposed shoulder joint in Emeria’s armor. Blood began to pour out from the wound, covering both Emeria and Sherid. The color rushed out from Emeria’s eyes and her hair turned a ghostly white. Emeria dropped to the floor, blood now pouring from her lips too.

“Your arrogance was always going to be the death of you girl,” Sherid spat at her. “I may not be a knight, but even I can overpower a small girl.” Sherid looked at Emeria as she bled out, feeling a conqueror’s vigor. He didn’t like the fact that he had to dirty his hands, but now a dark chapter in the blood god’s history would come to an end. He would take the bloodstone and restore glory to Sacrotia. Blood continued to pour from Emeria. Sherid knew he would have explaining to do, but he also knew there were enough true loyalists that he could right the kingdom.

Sherid went to triumphantly pick Emeria up and leave the room and head to the throneroom but found that his feet were stuck. The blood had pooled all around him and as he looked down he saw it began to crawl up his legs. From the pools on the floor, two large tendrils shot up and took his wrists. His body was held in the air as he heard Emeria’s dark laugh. She stood up, pulling the dagger from her chest. “Well, well, I really didn’t think you had it in you Sherid. I know you could send someone to do your dirty work, but I never thought you’d sully your own hands.” She dropped the dagger harmlessly to the floor. “But really, a paralytic poison? Come on now, the blood god’s favor isn’t so weak that a simple enchantment could render it useless.”

Sherid could feel an intense pain running through his body, starting at every bit Emeria’s blood touched. “You’re an abomination,” he said angrily.

“Shame that those will probably be your last words Sherid, but then again so many of your words have been false.” Emeria stepped behind Sherid’s desk, grabbing the book of royal history. As she did the color flickered back to her eyes and slowly the red pigment returned to her hair. “Nice trick I pulled, right?” I actually made you think you’d killed me, didn’t I?” She chuckled, “I’ve been waiting to try that out.” She stepped back in front of Sherid. Before he could say anything in reply a tendril of blood lashed across his mouth. “Now it’s time for you to listen, after all, you’ve done so much talking about me already to so many people I assume.”

Through the Tendril Sherid attempted to scream, though scarce little sound came out. “You have lied to me about so much Sherid. You’ve been talking to Dracyr, trying to kill me. I mean I assume this has to do with my plans for Chirock, but I have to tell you, you don’t know the half of my plans, none of you do. You already know my plan involves the blood plague, or at least I assume you figured that out.”

Sherid muffled a reply, he had figured that much out. Luckily for him, he was the person who had originally devised an answer for the blood plague years ago. He had already made sure Dracyr and the people of Draeton were prepared. She would be able to help the people of Chirock even if he couldn’t.

“Well I know you love this book and its supposed secrets, but let me tell you a few things.” Emeria held the book close to Sherid’s face. “This book, the leather on it, this is the skin of the first scribe, the first traitor to my crown. He thought he’d sell the secrets after he wrote them, well, he didn’t get the chance.” Emeria grinned, pressing the book right on Sherid’s face. “Maybe it needs a new cover.” She smiled and laughed as she pulled the book back.

“Now, that second part, this book is only half-truths. Do you really think any of my family would be dumb enough to put everything in here? We put in the bits we want to and the rest are lies meant to give us the advantage. After all, all the information about the blood plague is incorrect. I know everything about the plague Sherid. I always have.”

As she said this everything began to click in Sherid’s head. He thought he had been creating a weapon and testing it, but in reality, Emeria had simply played him for a far longer game. Her appearance and mannerisms truly masked the monster that lay inside her. “I am the blood plague Sherid. That mixture that was made? It was nothing more than my blood really. My blood consumed everything else. The people, the animals, every single lire taken by the plague was taken by me. I felt every little bit of it. Every last drop of blood that moved, that infected, that fed, I felt it all! I can make the plague any time I want simply by cutting myself and willing the blood to spread. The higher the concentration, the faster the plague goes.”

Emeria twisted her wrist and showed Sherid the fresh wound on the forearm. With a twitch, the tendril over his mouth moved. “So go on, admit it for me Sherid, you tried to kill me.”

“Fine, you want the truth, I did, of course, I did,” Sherid said angrily. “You are a monster, a mockery of my god. I could not bear to watch you any longer. I may not like the people of Draeton as they worship false gods, but anything is better than you. You are an abomination!”

“See, that’s more like it!” Emeria said happily. “It’s not like it was hard to figure out. You were the only one with anything real to gain and the will to do so. Moren and Ursania couldn’t betray me if they wanted and Rosher is too spineless. He’d never move so directly. After all, he thinks he controls me anyway. But you, you actually think you could fix it all, kill me, take the throne, and change the kingdom. Well here’s the problem Sherid. You don’t have the power, you don’t have the right to do it. I am divine, I am a god, I was born to rule and you, you were born to die for people like me!”

Sherid spat at her, using his last breath for a single defiant act. “Fine Sherid, if you want to expedite this we can.” Emeria pressed her forearm against Sherid’s face. “You’ve always worshipped the blood god, been so devout. Well I’m going to give you your wish in a way, you will be part of the blood god. You’ll become part of my divine gift!” The tendril writhed forth from Emeria’s wound and into Sherid’s mouth, sinking deeper into him. Emeria could feel the blood flowing into her as Sherid’s body turned ghastly pale. His veins went blue as the life was fully drained from his body. With one last shudder, the tendril pulled back out and Emeria let Sherid’s body drop to the ground with a dull thud.

Emeria turned with a grin of satisfaction on her face. She threw open the door and skipped down the halls, heading back to the throne room. She felt an exhilarating rush from her meal. She had caught a rat just as expected. This rat was particularly tasty though. She happily skipped through the open doors to the throne room and found Rosher where she had left him, hunched over the table looking at maps.

“My queen, I trust you found what you were looking for?” Rosher said as he bowed his head.

“I did Rosher, I found my rat and now we may proceed,” she replied happily.

“I am glad to hear that my queen,” Rosher said. “So what would you have me do next?’

“Next I need you to go to the coffers and prepare a shipment of valuables the likes of which no one could refuse. Though the hermits in Chirock are weary of guests they are also notorious greedy hoarders. We need to make sure there is so much gold in this that they have to accept. Then we will gladly give this all to them.”

“Yes of course me queen,” Rosher replied, puzzled. “Though I do feel as though I am missing a detail here my queen.”

“That’s because you are,” Emeria replied. “In the middle of this heap of gold, at the very bottom, we will place a chest. I will be the only one to handle the chest and you must make it clear that anyone who opens it or even touches it other than me will suffer the most excruciating death I can imagine. Do you understand?”

Rosher nodded quickly, “Yes, of course, my queen.”

“Good, then you may go now. Arrange the shipment quickly,” Emeria said as she motioned Rosher out of the room. Emeria spoke again as he approached the door. “Oh Rosher, one more thing actually.”

“Yes, my queen?” Rosher replied.

“I need you to contact the church of blood and tell them that they need to appoint a new high priest,” Emeria said with a smile.

Rosher paused for a moment and thought about his reply, choosing not to question. “Of course my queen,” he said as he scurried from the throne room as quickly as he could.